Hopeless
by WarriorOfAvalon
Summary: Every girl's dream is to live in the palace and befriend the handsome prince. Hope has both, though her life is anything but a fairy tale.
1. Chapter 1: Hope::

A/N: This story has been COMPLETELY REVISED. Anything you recognize from the book belongs to Gail Carson Levine. Please remember to review! 

:Chapter 1: Hope:

Cling! Cling! Slash!

I am absorbed in the mock swordfight a young boy, well, not quite a boy but not yet a man either, and a trained knight are displaying in my view.

"Not bad, today, Your Majesty," the knight said with a bow as he brought his sword down. His short red hair clung to his forehead, wet with perspiration, although the slight chill of autumn filled the air. Crimson colored leaves scattered the ground around where I sat, just a few yards away from where the two were practicing, though I was concealed from there view by a rather large oak tree. 

"Thank you, Sir Brandon," the boy replied, his swarthy skin glowing with sweat. He was quite tall for his seventeen years, towering above the robust, middle-aged man in front of him. He ran a darkish hand, probably from the hours out in the sun, through his straight, brown hair that nearly hung down to his shoulders. "See you tomorrow then?"

The red headed knight nodded. "Till then, Your Majesty," he replied with a bow, and headed away, each footstep though the leaves making a slight crunching sound.

"Jack," I called to the boy, after making sure the red-haired knight was out of sight. I stepped out from behind the tree.

The boy looked over and smiled. With a wave he headed over to where I was.

"So you're here?" He said, dropping his jewel encrusted sword onto the soft ground. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand.

I nodded. "There weren't many dishes around," I lied. Though he was only a couple years older, he was nearly a head taller and I had to look up to see his face. "And Mother's not around. She's getting ready for you're lesson." Which is probably true.

Jack sighed. "Yeah. I should go and clean up." He paused for a moment before adding, "But I'll stick around for a few minutes."

I tucked a strand of my long dark hair, which was more than quite filthy, might I add, behind my ear. "So I heard Evan and your father are coming home soon?"

Evan is Jack's older brother who left with their father, King Charmont, a few months ago to hunt for ogres in the Elve's Forest, which wasn't too far from the palace where we lived. 

He grinned. I studied the light freckles that sprinkled across his cheeks. "Tonight, actually. Or tomorrow at the latest. Mother and I hadn't been expecting them to arrive for another couple of weeks. She wanted to surprise them with a ball to celebrate their return, but I guess it's a little too late for that." He mocked a sigh of relief. "Thankfully."

I grinned. Jack hated dancing. I remember when we were younger he would sneak into a closet in the back kitchen, where I usually worked, to escape from the possibility of having to dance at the ball.

"Well, I'd better get going now. Don't want to be late for my lesson."

I nodded. "Okay. I'll see you later."

"I'll try to come find you afterwards if I have time."

Jack (more commonly known as Prince Jackson of Kyrria) and I have quite a strange relationship. My mother has been the tutor of the royal children since before I was born, and other than Evan, who's two years older than Jack), that made me the only other child in the palace, thus making me Jack's only other playmate.

Secret playmate.

Secret, as in Mother was furious when she found out that a commoner, like me, had been mingling with the future rulers of our Kingdom, so we had to be more discreet when playing out little games.

The three of us would go on imaginary adventures around the palace when we were younger, when I was about five or so. Our most common one was 'Ogres in the Forest'. Jack would always be the Ogre (because, according to eight year old Evan, Ogres were smelly and ugly), Evan would be the brave knight, and I would be the princess (as I was the only girl).

Jack and I would hide somewhere in the palace and not make a sound (which I was quite good at, for I would have gotten a beating from Mother if she had caught me playing, though the young prince's were unaware of this), and Evan would come and find us. Once he did, he and Jack would 'fight'. ('Fight' as in Evan, who was older and stronger, would push him out of the way, resulting in Jack trying not to cry, though occasionally I would catch a tear or two roll down his cheek, which I would now find quite odd, considering its been almost ten years since we've played and I haven't seen him shed a tear since then.) Then the brave knight would rescue the princess and give her a peck on the cheek. Immediately following this, I would almost always rush to the kitchen to finish up scrubbing the kitchen floor before Mother caught on.

A few years later, Evan grew 'too old' for us (though he was only a few years older than me and Jack) and went off to do his own thing. He was next in line for the throne after King Charmont and Queen Ella, after all, so he needed to be prepared.

So ends the story of my childhood.

I stared as I saw the outline of Jack's body get smaller and smaller as he headed towards the entrance of the palace.

I yawned. I'd better get back to the kitchen before Mother noticed I was out here.

I stood up and brushed away the dirt on my unkempt skirt. Then something in the grass and leaves caught my eye.

Jack's sword. He must've forgotten he had left it on the ground.

"Jack!" I called, cupping my hands around my mouth to make a louder sound.

He was gone.

I sighed and reached down to pick the sword up. It was surprisingly heavy. I was about to head back when-

Slap!

My hand flew to my stinging cheek and I dropped the sword onto the gound in front of me. The blade barely missed my bare feet.

I looked up.

Mother.

She smoothed out the front of her skirt, which appeared sparkling clean compared to mine. It was obvious that she, the tutor of the royal children, held a much higher status than her daughter, a lowly kitchen maid. 

"Who do you think you are, daughter, addressing His Royal Highness by his first name?" she spoke in a calm, yet bitter tone.

My eyes began to burn with tears. I blinked them away. I couldn't cry. I couldn't let her win. "I-I'm his friend. . ." I whispered before I could stop myself. Bad move. 

Slap!

She struck my other cheek. I cried out this time. I cursed at myself in my headfor letting her get a reaction out of me. 

"Look at me when I talk to you," she spat.

I obeyed.

"Now what did you just tell me?"

I eyed the sword on the floor right in front of me. 

"Answer me!" She raised her hand.

I backed away, getting ready for another strike.

She set her hand down. "You say you're his friend, eh?"

Yes. Though I didn't dare answer her. 

"Well let me tell you this, you filthy little wench. Just because the kind prince pities you in no way means that he enjoys you're company. Now why don't you stay out of his sight from now on and do him a favor?"

I could feel my whole body surging with anger. I bit my bottom lip to keep from exploding at her.

"In fact, why don't you do ALL of us a favor and stay behind the kitchen doors with that loathsome cook of yours. Now get back to work like a good maid should."

I dashed away, hiding behind a tree that was near the palace's back entrance to the kitchen.   
I gathered all the strength I could muster and punched the tree's trunk.

"Ow!" I cried out in pain. I stared at my bleeding knuckles. I must've gotten at least tensplinters. I sighed. This is what I get for being so moronic.

I headed over to the back entrance of the kitchen and lightly swung the door open.

"Hey, Sweets," greeted the gray haired cook. She was currently scrubbing at the dishes I had forgotten to do.

"I'm sorry, Mandy. . ." I replied, walking over to where she is standing. "I'll take over." I reached for the dirty plate she was scrubbing.

"Oh no, I'll take care of- Hope, what happened to your hand?" She stared wide eyed at my blood stained, scratched up hand.

"I punched a tree. On accident."

"Oh."

She didn't speak another word and continued to scour the dishes. That was one of the things I loved about Mandy. She knew what to say and what not to say at the right times. And right now I didn't want her asking any questions.

In the next few hours, I helped Mandy prepare a large supper, in case Prince Evan and King Charmont arrived early.

"Are you sure this is enough to feed the royal family AND all the knights from the hunt?" I asked as I took a mincemeat pie out of the oven. I glanced at the vegetable stew, roast pork and cream tarts. Judging from their appetites, I bet that Jack and Evan could finish off this food themselves.

"Don't worry about it, there'll be plenty," Mandy assured me as she stirred the stew. "Get started on the dishes, Sweets. Take your time."

It took me less than half an hour to finish up the dishes, but by that time it seemed as though the food we have prepared multiplied by ten.

I stared in awe. "Mandy! How did you do this all just now?"

Mandy chuckled. "I have my secrets." Mandy was, indeed, the best cook that ever lived. "Thank you for your help, dear, now run along. I'll get some of the other maids to set the table. I'll call for you if I need your help."

I stepped outside. The air had cooled quite a bit, and the sun was replaced with a cool dark sky and a scatter of stars.

I heard low murmurs from a few yards away. I noticed a crowd of knights on horses talking amongst themselves.

They were back! I wondered if Jack knew this. I looked around for him, but he was nowhere in sight. He was probably still at his lesson. 

I walked over to the crowd of knights and stopped. Something was wrong. Maybe they didn't capture the ogres?

"Excuse me, Sir," I said, tapping on one of the knight's shoe. He looked down at me from his seat up on the saddle.

I recognized him immediately. It was Evan.

"Your Majesty." I greeted. I swept into a curtsey. 

He glanced over, looking quite distressed. He stared at me for a moment with a puzzled look on his face. Then his eyes widened. He paused for a moment as if he was deep in thought. "Hope?" he replied with a hint of doubt.

I nodded, a smiled nervously. This was the first time he had addressed my name since our imaginary ogre game days.

His skeptical look was immediately replaced with a grin. "Wow! How long has it been since we last spoke? Almost ten years?"

I shrugged. "I believe so." And in those past ten years, he had certainly changed. He shared many of Jack's physical features. Same swarthy skin, sprinkle of freckles, and both were quite tall. The only difference was the hair. They both had the same hair color, but Evan inherited his father's curly hair, while Jack had Queen Ella's straight hair. He also appeared a bit more built than Jack, but then again, he was a few years older. 

"You've changed so much! The last time I saw you must've been less than half your age!"

I nodded, not knowing how to reply. Sure, I've seen him around the palace while cleaning up, but we hadn't exchanged any words in a long while.

"Your Majesty-" I said, curtseying again.

"Don't be ridiculous." He cut me off, chuckling. "It's Evan, remember?"

I smiled nervously. "Evan, then. Does Jack know you're here?" It was kind of awkward saying his name, for we were now no more than strangers. 

The mention of his brother's name triggered something in him. His cheerful attitude immediately faded. He nodded. "He went his room. . . I'm not sure if he wants anyone to visit right now, but if he does, you're probably the first candidate, considering how close you two are."

"What happened?" I asked, a bit alarmed. "Is he alright?"

Evan nodded, chuckling a bit. "I'm sure he's fine." One of the knights called for him. "I've got to go. It was nice seeing you again, Hope." He rode off. 

I rushed back inside. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

I stepped through the kitchen and grabbed a rag. I was surprised Mandy wasn't in there. Mandy's always in the kitchen. Maybe she decided to go to bed early. . .

I walked out of the kitchen and tiptoed up the marbled spiral steps, though I know I'm not allowed. Only the chambermaids and the royal family were allowed on the second floor. Maybe if they saw I had a rag they would think I was just doing my job. . .

I peered down to the marble floor below as I continue up the staircase. I remember when we were younger, Jack and Evan and I would take turns sliding down the banister. I grinned at the fond memories. Mandy would throw a fit when I arrived in the kitchen with a torn skirt.

When I climbed the last steps I was greeted with a long hallway of doors. I sighed. There must be over a hundred rooms to choose from!

I pondered upon which one Jack was in, for I had never been into his room. Or even on the second floor, for that matter. Evan said he was pretty upset, so I figured his door must have been locked.

I reached for the closed door closest to me and turned the knob. It easily twisted the whole way, meaning it was open. I continued to do this until after about twenty sets of doors, I reached a locked one. This may be it.

I quietly tapped the door.

"Who is it?" someone asked.

I recognize the voice immediately. Mandy! What was she doing up here!

"Wrong room," I quickly replied, disguising my voice so she wouldn't recognize me and send me back to the kitchen. Mandy was kind, but she was also very strict about rules.

I continued to check the doorknobs when I come across another locked one. I quietly rapped on the door.

No answer.

I taped a little harder this time.

Still no answer.

I was beginning to wonder if someone had locked the room before they left, but I knew that the palace doors locked only from the inside, so there must be someone in there. . .

"Jack?" I spoke softly. I pause for a few moments. Frustrated, I was about to move on when the door slowly creaked open. 

I had found him. Deep bags have formed under wide eyes, as though he hadn't slept in days.

"Jack?" I repeated quite alarmed. Whatever happened, it must've been pretty bad. 

He didn't even bother to let me in. "He's gone," was all he said. He looked and spoke like a zombie, his hand still frozen on the doorknob of the half open door, his face expressionless.

He? Who was he? I racked my brains to think of who he might be talking about. "What do you mean? Who's gone?"

"My father is dead."

A/N: Hey! I hope you enjoyed the beginning of this story. Please leave me a review and tell me what you think!


	2. Chapter 2: Jack::

A/N: Thanks to all who reviewed! I'm going to be alternating between Jack/Hope POV, so this chapter is basically the same (though there are different situations) as the first chapter, but from a different perspective. Hope you enjoyed this chapter!

:Chapter 2: Jack:

" Jack."

I glanced around for the owner of the voice, wiping the perspiration off my forehead with the back of my hand. The cool air felt good against my skin. I spotted a dark haired girl peering at me from behind an oak tree a few yards away. I waved, startled to see her here, and headed over.

"So you're here?" I asked, dropping the heavy sword to the ground. I stretch my aching arms, relieved for the sudden drop of weight.

She nodded. "There weren't many dishes around and Mother's not around. She's getting ready for you're lesson."

The girl, Hope, had been living at the palace for as long as I can remember. Her Mother had been tutoring me and my older brother, Evan, since we were children.

I sighed. "Yeah. I should go and clean up."

Hope's smile disappeared.

"But I guess I can stick around for a few minutes longer," I quickly added.

Her smile returned and she nodded. "So I heard Evan and your father are coming home soon?" she tucked a strand of her long black hair behind her ear.

I grinned. Evan and my father, more commonly known as King Charmont, had left a few months ago to hunt for ogres in the Elves' forest. Mother, also known has Queen Ella, had received a letter last night from Father that said they would be back within the next few days. "Tonight, actually. Or tomorrow at the latest. Mother and I hadn't been expecting them to arrive for another couple of weeks. She wanted to surprise them with a ball to celebrate their return, but I guess it's a little too late for that. Thankfully." I said with an exaggerated sigh of relief.

Which I was relieved for. I hate dancing. Especially at balls. It would probably have been a costume ball, anyway. Mother and Father have a strange infatuation with them, for a reason unknown to Evan and I. They said something about an inside joke. "I'd better get going now," I tell her. "Don't want to be late for my lesson."

She nodded. "Okay, I'll see you later."

I started to head away, turning around once to add, "I'll try to come find you afterwards if I have time."

I headed away from the courtyard and through the palace doors. I was to wash up and meet up with Hope's mother for our lesson.

I climbed up the spiral steps to the second floor and immediately my mind flooded with youthful memories of when Hope and Evan and I would slide down the banister.

"I'll see you at our next lesson, Your Majesty," the tutor said, gliding into a graceful curtsey. Her lovely raven hair was swept up into a sleek bun on top of her head.

I nodded and slightly bowed. "You too, Ma'am."

I headed down the stairs, sniffing the air. Mmmm. Already I could smell the dinner Mandy, our cook, was preparing. I was about to head towards the kitchen (Mandy usually lets me sneak a bite or two before she actually serves her meals) when I heard voices and the sound of hooves outside.

Evan and Father!

I rushed out the doors, and was greeted by a group of about ten or so armed knights with a lavish amount of weapons on horses. I spotted a particularly young man with curly hair and swarthy skin among them.

"Nice to have you back, Evan," I greeted with a grin.

My brother Evan, who is just two year my senior, turned towards me. He hopped of his horse and stood in front of me. Instead of his usual slap on the back, he just stood there in front of me, frozen in place, his face expressionless.

"Hello, Evan," I tried again, forcing a chuckle, sensing that something was wrong.

And then the strangest thing happened. Evan reached out his long arms and pulled me into an awkward embrace.

"Evan!" Now I was sure something was wrong. Evan hadn't hugged me since. . . well, never. Not even when we were little kids. The only contact we ever came into was when he punched or pushed me. Never like this.

"Err. . ." I drew back from him and took a few steps back. Instead, I patted his back and said "What's wrong?"

"Jackson. . ." he finally spoke up in a voice that was barely above a whisper. I cringed. I hated my full name.

"What's wrong?" I repeated. And that's when I noticed it. I counted the horses. One, two, three. . .nine. There are nine horses. And nine men. When they left a few months ago, it was a group of ten men. Ten. "Where's father!" I asked, my heart racing.

"Jack," Evan said again. "He was caught."

My eyes widened. What did he just say? Then I laughed. I must have misheard him. "Evan, quit it. That's not something to joke about," I said, playfully punching his arm.

Normally Evan would have gotten ready to punch me back, but he didn't move. This was definitely not a normal situation.

"Jack, he's dead."

"Who's dead?" I blurted quickly. Deep down I knew who he is talking about, but some part of me wanted to believe it was one of the knights that was killed. I know that's a horrible thing to think, but, I mean. . . he's my father.

He didn't answer me. Instead, he stared at me with sympathetic eyes.

"N-No. Stop lying. This isn't funny anymore." I could hear my voice shaking.

"Jack, listen to me."

"No! I won't!" I quickly pushed him out of the way, and dashed back towards the castle. I know I made a fool of myself out there in front of the knights, acting like a little kid and all, but I didn't care. I flew up the stairs, taking three steps at a time. I rushed into my bedroom, locked the door, and flung myself on my bed. I stared at the ceiling. What a lovely color. Blue. Father's favorite color. I blinked, my eyes stinging from. . . something. Tears, perhaps? No, I most certainly was not crying. I don't cry.

I layed there in silence for what seemed like hours, though I knew that barely fifteen minutes had passed.

Then there was a knock on the door. I didn't answer. It was probably Evan, anyway.

There was another knock, this time louder. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing the person to go away. Go away.

This time there was a voice. "Jack?"

Hope! I groaned softly. Although I considered her my best friend (she's the only one close to my age in the palace) I wanted to be left alone.

I could sense that she was still standing outside the door. Maybe talking to her would help. . . I debated the two decisions in my head for a few moments before I decided to let her in. I creaked the door open and found her standing there. Her eyes widened as she looked up at me.

"Jack?" she asked frantically, staring at me as though I was a ghost. "What's the matter?"

I was planning on opening the door to let her in, but I can't move. I gather up all the strength I have and manage to let out a few words. "He's gone," I whisper.

She stared at me in what seems to be a mix or horror and worry. I stared back. She had a bit of dirt smeared on her cheek, and her skin was remarkably pale, especially in contrast with her dark hair, probably from all the hours she worked inside the kitchen. She was silent for a moment before she spokeup again. "What do you mean? Who's gone?"

I decided I might as well tell her. After all, she was going to find out sooner or later that her king is dead. "My father is dead."

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please remember to review!


	3. Chapter 3: Hope::

:Chapter 3: Hope:

My heart sank. Now I understood why Evan seemed so dismal. "Oh, Jack. . . I'm so sorry. . ." And I really was. What was I suppose to say?

He didn't even blink.

I felt tears burning my eyes. Although I personally never knew King Charmont, but he was one of those people who always had a smile on his face.

"C-Can I come in?" I asked quietly, setting my hand on the doorknob on the opposite side of the door.

He didn't flinch. It is when I slowly pushed the door open he finally moved out of the way. I glanced up at him. Although he was looking right in my direction, his gaze seemed to go straight through me, as though I'm wasn't even there.

"J-Jack?" I asked, quite alarmed. I had never seen him act like this. But then again, he'd never lost a parent before. "Say something. . ."

He stood there as though he were lifeless. He certainly looked it. His green eyes were wide open and didn't seem to quite focus on one certain thing and his hand was still frozen on the doorknob.

"Jack," I repeated softly, my voice shaking. "I-It'll be alright. I lost my father too. . . well. . . I-I've never known him but-"

Suddenly, out of nowhere, he grabbed my wrist. I froze and stopoed talking, my heart racing. His grip was tight, and it almost felt like he was cutting the circulation off of my hand. His touch felt odd yet familiar at the same time, and I realized that this was the first time in our lives that we had any sort of physical contact. And for some reason, I didn't like it one bit. I quickly pulled my arm from his grasp.

His bottom lip started to slightly quiver, and he started to whimper softly, as if he was a small child that was afraid to be left alone, which was quite strange coming from a grown boy.

"I-It's okay to cry, Jack," I said, immediately sorry I had retreated from him. But I couldn't bring myself to touch him. I could feel my own warm tears flood out of my eyes. I took my free hand and wiped them away.

But he didn't shed a tear.

After a few minutes of just standing there, he finally spoke up.

"I'm sorry," he said in a monotonous voice. I was relieved to finally hear his voice.

I waited a few moments in case he were to say something else, but he didn't, so I spoke instead. "I'll leave you to yourself now. . ."

He barely shrugged a shoulder, then nodded. He opened the door and led me out. The door closed with a soft 'click' from behind me.

I wiped my remaining tears with my arm and quietly tiptoed for the stairs. I was about to climb down the first step when I felt a hand on my shoulder. Expecting it to be Jack, I turned around.

Slap!

Not expecting the blow, I cried out. "Mother I can explain!"

"You wretched fool!" she said fiercely under her breath, as to not draw a crowd. She dug her fingernails into my shoulder.

I bit my lower lip, attempting not to cry out again, and blinked my tears away. She pulled me into a room, and locked the door behind her.

"What in hell's name is your filthy little body doing up here!"

"King Charmont is dead!" I blurted before I could stop myself. "Mother, please- "

This time it is her whole fist that came into contact with my cheek.

I fell to my knees and my hand flew to the side of my face. I could feel something warm and metallic tasting fill my mouth. I swallowed the blood.  
"If I EVER hear the great king's name coming from your dirty mouth again I'll make sure of it you won't be able to speak again!"

I jumped to my feet and headed for the door. Jack's door wasn't far away. . . if I pound on the door maybe I'd make enough noise for him to hear, though I'd hate to bother him.

"Don't even think about moving."

I froze, thinking about her threat making sure I would never speak again.

"Now," she said, scowling furiously. "Tell me why you're up here."

"J-Ja-His royal highness wanted to see me. . ."

Her scowl turned into a smirk. "You don't expect me to believe that someone of his status would waste even a second of his time thinking of some. . . dirty wench like you?" She sniggered softly, bringing her hand up to her chest as if this was the funniest thing she had ever heard.

I clenched my fist, anger surging through every part of my body. If she wasn't my Mother I would smack her right back.

"Now get out of here before someone sees you with me," she said with a repulsive shudder.

I didn't move a muscle.

"Didn't you hear what I said?" she asked calmly, though I could tell her anger was building up.

"What's WRONG with you, Mother!" I breathed in between clenched teeth. "The KING is DEAD! The king! Don't you care?"

"Of course I care," she replied quietly. "There are certain people in the world who are worth caring about."

Ignoring what she said, I continued to speak. "Do you care about ANYONE else besides yourself! Don't you realize what a selfish-"

Slap!

"Are you mad! What is WRONG with you!" I said in a hoarse whisper.

"Don't speak to me in that tone!" she ordered, raising her hand again.

"You have no right to touch me." I sounded a lot braver than I felt.

"You can't mean that," she replied with a smirk. "I am your mother."

"I'm ashamed to call you my mother!" I spat, anger surging through every vein in my body. I felt a warm tear roll down my cheek. "You know what? I don't care! Hit me! Beat me! It doesn't matter anymore because I HATE YOU!"

There was an awkward silence. She lowered her hand and glared at me through narrowed eyes. "What did you just say to me?"

"I hate you," I said with a satisfactory smirk. I didn't care anymore. She was going to hit me again like she'd been doing all my life. So predictable.

I waited for the blow, but to my surprise, it never came.

"Hate is quite a fowl word to be coming out of a little girl's mouth," she replied, her voice quivering. "You don't hate me, Hope. You may disagree with my actions at the moment, but you know it's for the best. You brought this onto yourself, you know. If you would just know your place in the world I wouldn't have to do this to you."

I lowered my eyes to the floor. For a moment there I thought I had finally won, but she had a way of making me feel like everything was my fault. And she was good at it.

"You foolish girl."

Slap!

I felt the burn on the side of my face, but I didn't care, right? Wrong.

"Why did you have me?" I whispered. "If you hate me so much."

Mother folds her arms across her chest. "I didn't have much of a choice, you know," she said with a smirk.

What? What does she mean by that?

She sighed hopelessly. "It was such a tragedy, the day I found out I was carrying you. I will never forget that day. And I will never forgive you."

Her words echoed through my head. I hated that woman. "If you didn't want me, you should have killed me when I was born."

It felt like her stare was burning into my skull. "That would've made me a murderer."

"I'd rather be a murderer than a SELFISH EVIL TYRANT!" I yelled at her. I quickly took a few steps away from her.

"What did you-"

"You know what I think?" I asked. I could feel a stream of warm blood flooding from my mouth. "I think you're jealous."

She scoffed. "Of who. . . you?" She burst into mock laughter and rolled her eyes. "Surely you jest?"

"You're jealous of me because there I have friends who care about me."

She looked at me in disbelief. "You have no friends."

"You're the one without friends, Mother. Think about it. I certainly don't love you. Besides me, you have NO ONE. I DON'T LOVE YOU! NO ONE DOES!"

And with that I pushed past her, eager to get away. I struggled with the lock for a few moments before forcefully twisting the knob and pushing the door open. I burst out of the room and hopped onto the banister, blinded by my tears as I slid all the way down to the floor.

Oh no oh no! I'm dead. DEAD. If I ever come face to face with Mother again she would kill me. I sped to kitchen and, fortunately, found it empty. I had forgotten Mandy was still in that room upstairs.

Before I could stop myself I reached for a stack of porcelain plates and smashed then at my feet. My bare feet. I cried out in pain and dropped to my knees and sobbed, ignoring the piercing pain I felt in my feet.

"I HATE YOU!" I shrieked, pounding the floor. I could feel shards of the plate piercing my fist.  
I didn't know whether those words were directed towards Mother or to myself.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Please review


	4. Chapter 4: Jack::

A/N: for those of you who are still confused, this chapter takes place the same exact time the last one did, except it's in Jack's point of view this time. Got it?

:Chapter 4: Jack:

There. I said it. Father is dead.

"Oh, Jack. . ." Hope started as she stared up at me. I could her eyes starting to water as she spoke. "I-I'm so sorry. . ."

Don't be sorry, I wanted to say. But I couldn't speak. I couldn't move. I couldn't even blink. I just stood there, frozen, with my hand on the doorknob opposite of the one she was holding.

"C-Can I come in?" she whispered.

I tried to open the door for her, but strangely, it was as though I had lost any trace of power. I tried to concentrate on her face, to give her the message that yes, I didn't mind if she came in, but I couldn't concentrate. On anything. My mind was blank.

Suddenly, she gently pushed the door open, and it was then I was finally able to move out of the way.

She stepped inside and said something else, but I was not able to comprehend what she said.  
Tears flooded out of her eyes as I heard her slowly whisper to me. ". . .lost. . . father, too. . ." were the only words I could catch.

And then I understood. She lost her father too. How selfish was I to get worked up over something like this when she had gone through so much more at such a young age?

I reached out and wrapped my fingers around her small wrist, startling her. She bit her lip as I gripped tighter and tighter. As I did that it's as though I can almost feel her pain. . . share her pain. . .

She quickly pulled away, giving me a shocked look.

"I-It's okay to cry, Jack."

Startled, I peered at her, and it was then I realized I was whimpering like a child. I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment. I couldn't cry, not in front of her. I couldn't burden her with any of my problems. The last time she had seen me cry was about ten years ago, when Evan had pushed me when we played 'Ogres in the Forest.' I wasn't a little boy anymore. 

Within a few moments I finally found my voice again. I stared as she slowly stroked her arm where I had grasped her.

"I'm sorry," I manage to say in a croaky voice.

She hesitated for a few moments before speaking. "I'll leave you to yourself now." She forced a sympathetic smile.

I shrugged, then nodded. I reached for the door and led her out.

You can stay if you want, I'm sorry for how I acted, I said. Or I thought I said. I'm not even sure if I had spoken aloud. Apparently I hadn't, for she didn't respond. She left without another word. 

I sighed, then closed the door behind me.

I lied in bed for what felt like hours, though barely half an hour has gone by since Evan had come home. Finally I got up. I needed to talk to him.

I walked into the silent hallway. I headed towards the stairs when I heard a strange noise from inside one of the rooms. Was someone. . . crying?

I stopped and stared. The sound was coming from. . . an open door?

". . .no one loves me. . . no one loves me. . ." a familiar voice sobbed.

I peered into the room in a cautious manner. "Are you al-"

I stopped, startled at what I saw. I had been expecting it to be one of the younger servants. . . NOT a grown woman, least of all. . . the tutor?

". . . no one loves me. . . no one loves me. . ." She was sitting on the floor in the middle of the room, slowly rocking herself with her arms wrapped around her knees like a little girl.

"Excuse me, Ma'am. . ." I said nervously.

Suddenly she stopped, and staredup at me with wide eyes as though she had just acknowledged my presence.

"You're highness!"

I never realized how much she resembled Hope. I mean, of course I wasaware that they share the same hair color and complexion, but at this moment, with her looking so vulnerable. . . she looked just like Hope. 

She quickly stood up and stumbled into a curtsey. "I-I'm so sorry you have to see me like this. . . I'm quite alright, really. . . I'm sorry for wasting you're time. . ."

"Are you alright?" I asked, beginning to get a little worried.

"Oh. . . o-oh yes, I'm fine. . . j-just. . . I just heard the news about the great king. . . o-oh, I am so sor-"

I felt a pang of pain in my stomach. Father. I had forgotten about him for a moment.

"Yes. . . well I've got to be going now, Ma'am," I said with a slight bow. 

"Y-Yes, of course. . ."

I backed out of the room and headed down the stairs. Immediately the scent of delicious food invaded my nostrils. Evan and the men must be eating the dinner Mandy prepared.

I stepped down the stairs, resisting the temptation of sliding down the banister as I had done many times when I was younger. I walked over into the dining hall, spotting Evan and the soldiers gnawing on plump chicken legs silently.

I cleared my throat.

Evan looked up. He set his eyes upon me and set the chicken leg on the porcelain plate in front of him.

"Would you care for a bite to eat, Jack?"

I shook my head. "Can I uh. . . see you for a moment?" He looked older, somehow, sitting with all of the knights, and powerful too. He looked like Father. 

He paused for a moment, then nodded. "Certainly."

He rose from the table and followed me out to the courtyard, where we stood silently for a few moments.

Evan was the one who finally broke the awkward silence by clearing his throat. "Ahem. Well."

"Hello," I mumbled, staring at the floor. 

"Hello."

Silence.

"So. . . what did you want to see me for?"

More silence on my part.

"Oh. . . alright then. So. . .er. . .oh! I spoke to Hope today. It'd been a while."

Suddenly, a bout of anger stirred up inside me. "Why?"

He quirked an eyebrow. "Why? Why did I talk to her? We're old friends, of course."

I eyed him suspiciously. "You two were never friends."

I watched him scrunch his forehead questioningly. "Pardon? Don't you remember the times when we-"

"A friend would never leave you without reason."

"Jack, what are you-"

"You know what I'm talking about. That one day when we were just children. We were getting ready for our little ogre game when you told her that you didn't want to be seen with her anymore."

Evan sighed in frustration. "That was ten years ago! I was eight or nine years old tops!"

"You never even spoke a single word to her again."

"There was a reason for that, Jack. You don't understand. You're the younger one. . . I was under a lot of pressure-"

"You were eight."

He sighed again, now looking as though he were thinking back upon a painful memory. "I know, but- why are you getting so worked up over this anyway?" He smoothed out his curly brown hair. 

I paused. He had point. Why were we talking about Hope anyway?

"That isn't what you wanted to talk to me about," he said softly.

"Yes it is," I lied, studying the ground. 

"No it wasn't."

"Yes- just stop it, okay?" I scowled, looking up at him. 

"You were the one who wanted to talk to me."

I paused again. He had another good a point.

"I know why you wanted to see me. You want to know about what happened to Father."

My heart jumped at the mention of Father. "No."

"Yes, it is, Jack. It's alright. You can't keep avoiding it like this."

"I'm NOT trying to avoid anything! And don't tell me that you know what I'm feeling. I'm fine. See? I'm FINE!" I had to resist the urge to smack him. 

He gazed at me sympathetically. "Jack, calm down. I'm sorry. But sooner or later you're just going to have to accept the fact that-"

"I DON'T GIVE A DAMN HE'S DEAD!"

There is quite a long silence following that.

"Jack. . ." I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"D-Don't touch me!" I snapped, slapping the hand away.

"You're crying."

My felt my stomach flip. Slowly, I reached my fingers to my face and felt a strange wetness. I couldn't believe it. "I-Is this crying?" I said in a hoarse whisper.

"I believe so."

I immediately rubbed the tears away, though new ones quickly replaced the old. 

"Jack, it's okay to cry."

I shook my head furiously, though warm tears continued to roll down my cheeks. "W-Why!" I sobbed. "Why him!" I felt like my heart was going to beat out of my chest. 

Evan stared at me with what seemed to be a mixture of a look of guilt and sorrow.

"Was he really. . . eaten. . . by a. . ."

"He was. I saw it happen." He said in an eerily calm voice. 

I felt like I was going to vomit. That had to be the most disgusting thing I have ever heard in my entire life. It is absolutely sickening. . . the thought of a human. . . my FATHER. . . being eaten.

I turned towards the palace and ran.

"Jack! Wait!"

I spun around, and realized that Evan had caught up to me. "Jack, I should've told you this years ago, but whatever you do, don't speak a word to Hope anymore."

My eyes widened in disbelief. "You can't tell me who I can or cannot speak to." I glared at him.

"I'm serious," he replied with a straight face. "Please. . . if you're really her friend, you would listen to me. Just stay away from her. Trust me on this one."

I walked away from him, furious. Who did he think he was, telling me not to talk to Hope anymore? I thought of that day many years ago when Hope had ran up to me, tears streaming her cheek, telling me that Evan wouldn't speak to her.

"Jack!" she had cried. "Evan hates me."

It was after one of my lessons, and we were out in the courtyard, behind some thick bushes, where we usually played. "No he doesn't," my six-year- old self replied. "Why do you think that?"

As if right on cue, Evan happened to walk by. "Jack, get over here right now. Come inside."

"But we want to play ogres in-"

"No. We can't play that anymore."

"But me and Hope-"

"Just leave her. Come on."

I sighed. I don't remember exactly what happened next, but all I remember is that since that day, Evan had not spoke a single word to her. Until today, that was.

I felt my stomach grumble. I headed over to the kitchen, hoping Mandy has some leftovers I could eat. Then I stopped. The thought of eating didn't exactly appeal to me right now. 

I was about to retreat back to my bedchamber when I heard it. There was the sound of glass breaking. Then there was shouting.

"I HATE YOU!"

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this chapter! PLEASE REVIEW!


	5. Chapter 5: Hope: ::

A/N: Thanks for the reviews! Wow, I just realized that the first five chapters all take place in the same day. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter!

:Chapter 5: Hope:

One thing about Mother kept nagging me. What if she was right? What if Jack was only pretending to be my friend out of pity? Or even worse. . . to make fun? I mean, that does make more sense. I am a kitchen maid. . . though I don't get paid for my services like the others. I was only here because Mother tutors the royal children. Jack is a royal child. Why on earth would he want to befriend a. . . slave? What if, like she said, no one really loved me either? I shuddered, not bothering to wipe away the tears rolling down my filthy cheeks. What if I was more like my mother than I thought?There was a knock.

I flinched when I heard the sound, bringing my skirt over my feet to cover my wounds. I gasped in pain as the skirt made contact with my bloody feet.

"Hello?" a voice behind the door called

I recognized the voice immediately. It was Jack. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing him to go away. Not now. . . why now? Why now when I'm so confused about everything? I don't want him to pity me anymore.

There was another knock. "Hello? Is everything okay in there?"

I shook my head, as though he could see me. No. Everything is not okay.

Creak. . .

I quickly wiped the splatters of blood on the floor with my skirt. I wiped my tears with my dirt- stained hands and pulled the skirt over my feet.

There was the 'click' sound of the door closing, and I sensed him standing a few feet away.

I could feel his gaze upon me during the next few moments of silence.

He sighed. "Tough night," he said simply.

I nodded. Those two words just about summed the day up. The fight with Mother, Evan speaking to me, the news of King Charmont's death. . .

The king's death. Finally, I looked up at Jack's face, and I couldn't help but notice how much of the king's face I saw in his own. I was relieved to see that he looked upset, as opposed to his eerie blank look he sported earlier.

He gazed at me in an uncomfortableway, his eyes unblinking. I shifted uncomfortably, trying to break his stare. He was probably thinking about all the times he'd wasted on me. A lowly kitchen maid. Finally, he broke the silence. "I'm sorry."

Sorry? Sorry about what? Sorry for leading me on to believe that he was a true friend, not just a kind prince who felt it his duty to treat those beneath him as equals? Instead, I said, "Me too," and lowered my eyes to the floor.

He offered me a swarthy hand, and I pondered upon whether I should accept it or not. Of course I should, he's the prince isn't he? I could get hung if I showed any disrespect. As I reached for his hand I ccouldn't dismiss Mother's words that our friendship has just been an act of kindness on his part. At least Evan was honest enough not to play around with me. I drew my hand back.

"What happened?" he asked as he stared at the floor. "You're bleeding!"

"Huh? Oh. . ." Blood was splattered all aroundme. "I was uh. . . washing the dishes and I guess one slipped from my hand. . . "

"Are you alright?" he said in a voice that sounded almost as if he were in a panic. He followed me with his stare as I jumped to my feet. Bad move.

Pain shot up from my foot as I stood up. I quickly retreated back to the floor.

"No, really, I'm fine," I insisted as I used my hands to sweep the small shards of glass into a small pile, ignoring the pain. "It's nothing."

"Are you sure? I mean, there's blood dripping-"

"I'm fine," I repeated, still sweeping at the floor.

"Alright." Neither of us talked for the next few minutes. I continuedto sweep around the neat pile of the broken pieces.

I could feel Jack's stare penetrating right through me. Did he know I might suspect him? I mean, it made sense. He and Evan were rather close, but he treated me differently. He treated me like a stranger. He and Evan got into arguments and fights every now and then, but they always end up closer after they make up. When he's around me, he's polite, uses good manners. . . like a prince should treat his subjects. The more I thought about it, the truer Mother's words sounded.

Jack cleared his throat.

It is only when I stopped sweeping and looked up when I realized I must've been mumbling to myself. I could feel my cheeks reddening with embarrassment.

"What's wrong?" he asked, giving me a concerned look, though as I concentrated on his face for the next few moments I swear it changed to a look one would give an insane person. "Hope, what's wrong?" he repeated, this time his tone a bit more urgent.

I wanted to tell him. Just a day before I would've told him everything on my mind. . . well, almost everything. I never told him anything about what happens with Mother. But what Mother had said. . . about pretending to be my friend out of pity. . . seemed to change my perception on everything.

I felt warm tears well up in my eyes as I gazed intently back at him. The only friendship I had ever known had been a lie. I dropped my fist into the pile of glass and small shards were sent in every direction.

"Hope!"

Before I could stop myself, I whispered, "Why didn't you ever tell me!"

His sparkling green eyes widened in confusion. "Tell you what?"

"You should've dropped the act years ago when Evan did." I wiped my nose with my sleeve. I could still feel my feet throbbing.

"Act? What act?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. Boy, was he a good actor.

Mother's words from this morning after Jack's sword practice seem to shriek in my ears. 'Well let me tell you this, you filthy little wench. Just because the kind prince pities you in no way means that he enjoys you're company. Now why don't you stay out of his sight from now on and do him a favor?'

How could I have been so clueless, thinking a prince enjoyed spending time with a kitchen maid. . . but even as I kept hearing her words, I couldn't forget the look in Jack's eyes up in his room before, as he was grieving for his father, whimpering like a child. . .

What was I thinking? It was all an act. If mother said so, it was probably true. There was a reason she's been tutoring the royal princes. How could I have been so foolish as to think that my uneducated views would ever compare to hers?

But there were all those times we played 'Ogres in the Forest' and made a human train to slide down the spiral banister when all the other maids had their backs turned. . .

"Hope. Please talk," he spoke frantically in a soft voice.

. . .but he's a prince. The future ruler of Kyrria! And I'm just a friendless, fatherless bastard with a mother who hates her.

He spoke some more, but all I caught were, "Are. . .me?"

I covered my ears, trying to drown out Mother's voice and my jumbled thoughts. Different memories flashed through my mind, memories of pretending to be a damsel in distress while playing our little games, of the look Evan gave me the first time he refused to speak to me, of the time Mother struck me earlier this evening after I had left Jack's room. She had her hand on my shoulder, I spun around, and then I felt the blow. I can still feel my cheek aching. The memory replayed over and over. Her hand on my shoulder, the blow. . . the hand on my shoulder, then the blow. . .

I flinched as I felt a warm hand on my shoulder. "DON'T TOUCH ME!" I shrieked as I slapped the hand away. "I HATE YOU! NO ONE LOVES YOU!"

I tightly squeezed my eyes shut, my hands still at my ears. That touch almost felt real. . . no, it felt VERY real. Suddenly, the voices start to slowly fade away and I opened my eyes, snapping back to reality. My heart felt like it weighed a hundred pounds, and I could feel the blood drain from my face. That's because it WAS real.

I peered up and saw a blurred figure standing beside me. I wiped my eyes with my sleeve for a better look.

Uh oh.

I saw Jack, though his look of concern was replaced with one of hurt. His eyes widened as he set his piercing green eyes on me. "What?" he replied calmly in a voice barely above a whisper, though he sounded extremely shocked.

I tried to speak, but no words come out.

He silently waited for me to answer.

I'm sorry! I want to cry out. I didn't realize it was you! I thought it was Mother. . . I bit my lower lip. If only he knew.

"Well then," he said, breathing shakily, still keeping his gaze. "I-I never knew you felt that way."

He paused again, as if waiting for an answer.

I didn't answer. I couldn't, though I was dying to. I opened my mouth to speak, but again, my voice was lost. Instead I gave out something between a choke and a sob.

"You know what? Evan was right. I shouldn't talk to you."

Ouch.

I saw him clench his fists as he prepared to speak again. "I'm going to do what I should've done ten years ago." With that he turned around so that his back was facing me. It felt as though my heart had been torn out of my chest.

And then he did what I feared the most. He walked off. No goodbye, no glance back. . . nothing. He just walked away.

"WAIT!" I finally cried out. I tried to stand up to run after him but my knees give away and I find myself back on the floor again, which was now scattered with little glass pieces. Only this time I didn't have a hand reach out to help me up.

And it was all my fault.

I rolled over onto my stomach, sobbing as I bury my face into the dirty floor.

What have I done!

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please review!


	6. Chapter 6: Jack::

:Chapter 6: Jack:

"Hello?" I called. It sounded like one of the kitchen maids were having a bit of trouble. There was no answer.

"Hello?" I repeated. "Is everything okay in there?" I slowly creaked open the door when no one responded.

I peered inside and my eyes widened. Hope was sitting on the floor and around her were shards of the remains of what I was assuming used to be a plate of some sort. I shut the door behind me and sighed. "Tough night," I said, running my fingers through my hair.

She didn't look at me, but simply nodded at my words. She kind of gazed off into the distance for a few moments before she finally jerked her head up towards me. She looked tired, very tired. The bags under her eyes almost looked like dark bruises, in great contrast to her pale skin.

I wondered if my previous behavior up in my room, when she had tried to console me, had contributed to her weariness.

"I'm sorry," I said quickly when I realized she wasn't going to answer me. I had to admit, I'd be pretty shaken if Hope had acted the way I had before, not moving or talking at all.

She lowered her eyes to the floor. "Me too," she said in a barely audible voice. I had to partly read her lips to make sure I heard her correctly.

I reached a hand out to help her up and she stared at it hesitantly for a moment. Finally, she lifted her hand up- only to draw it back down.

My stomach flipped. Something wasn't right. I must have really upset her earlier. I silently cursed at myself in my head when someone on the floor caught my eye. Blood.

How did I not notice it before? It was splattered all around where Hope sat on the floor. "What happened?" I asked frantically. I drew in a deep breath when I spotted her bare feet. Blood was running from her ankles down. I finally pieced it together. She must have accidentally dropped a plate on her feet, and was upset that I didn't notice it sooner. "You're bleeding!" I said, stating the obvious.

"Huh? Oh. . . " she looked at the floor around her. "I was washing the dishes and I guess one slipped from my hand."

Well that confirmed my idea. I gave a sigh of relief. So she wasn't mad at me. I think. "Are you alright?"

She nodded and jumped to her feet. She stood there for a moment, reminding me of a child first learning to walk. I saw her biting her bottom lip, trying not to cry out in pain. She slowly retreated back to the ground. "I'm fine," she insisted, and swept the shards of glass into a small pile with her hands. "It's nothing."

I pondered whether or not I should be helping her. "Are you sure? I mean, there's blood dripping-"

"I'm fine," she cut me off, raising her voice. She continued to sweep at the floor.

I stared at her. "Alright. . ." I mumbled to myself. I'd never seen her act this way. Maybe she was angry with me.

Then a thought struck me. Evan had told me that if I were really Hope's friend, I would leave her alone. Maybe, just maybe, he knew that she secretly disliked me and that I should leave her alone. No, no. . . That was too farfetched.

A loud crashing sound interrupted my thoughts. Hope's had dropped her fist into the pile of glass and the pieces were sent flying in every direction. "Hope?" I called out frantically.

She swung her gaze towards me a glared, her eyes welling up with tears. "Why didn't you ever tell me?" she whispered angrily.

My eyes widened. I had never seen Hope angry. What was going on? "Tell you what?"

"You should've dropped the act years ago when Evan did.

My heart sank at her words. Maybe I was right. Maybe she did hate me all along. . . but that couldn't be possible. She was my best friend. "Act?" I repeated her word. "What act?" What in the world could she be talking about?

She turned away from me and looked at the floor. I didn't know whether or not I was suppose to comfort her, afraid that she might snap at me. I stood frozen where I was.

"Hope? Please talk," I said softly. "Hope? Are you mad at me?" There. I asked her. Maybe now I'd finally get a straight answer from her once and for all.

She covered her ears, as if trying to drown out the sound of my voice.

I couldn't help it. I needed an answer. I stepped closer to her and set a hand on her shoulder. "Hope-"

"DON'T TOCH ME!" she shrieked. She slapped my hand off her shoulder and I jumped back. Woah.

"I HATE YOU! NO ONE LOVES YOU!"

I stared at her, speechless. I must've heard her wrong. I thought I heard her just say that-

No, I heard her correctly. She said it loud and clear. For the second time in my life, I wanted to cry. "What?" I finally whispered.

She didn't answer me. She was probably keeping that secret for a long time. Her whole life, to be exact.

"Well then," I spoke in a shaky voice. I could anger slowly replacing everything else I was feeling. "You know what?"

I paused for a moment in case she wanted to reply, but why would she? She hated me.

"Evan was right. I shouldn't talk to you." I clenched my fist. It took all I had to not yell.

I stared at her looked up at me from the floor, her eyes filled with tears. That lying wench. "I'm going to do what I should've done ten years ago."

With that I whipped around, pushed open the door and walked away without a final glance at her.

Stupid kitchen maid.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this chapter, please review!


	7. Chapter 7: Hope::

:Chapter 7: Hope:

I scrubbed at a cup and rinsed it off with warm water. I handed it over to Anne, a fellow kitchen maid who was a few years older than I, who dried it with a rag. I reached for the next dish and sighed, noticing the piles of plates and cups that were still in need for a washing. It was a wonder how a family of three went through so many dishes in a day.

"I still cannot believe the news about the king," Anne spoke, focusing on her job. "Did you see the Queen sobbing up on the balcony this morning?"

A memorial service was held for King Charmont this morning. I'd never seen so many people before in my life. I seemed as though most, if not all, of Kyrria attended.

"And the princes!" Anne continued, not giving me a chance to answer, though I wasn't in the mood to talk anyway. "It's not often we get to catch a glimpse of them with all these dishes we have to wash. Prince Evan is the more handsome of the two, don't you think?"

I saw her glance over at me from the corner of my eye. I didn't respond. Usually I enjoyed Anne's gossip, but right now I just wanted her stop talking.

"Well, I guess Prince Jack-" I glowered at the mention of his name "-is quite alright too, a little young for my taste but. . . would you hurry it up a bit, Hope? I've got nothing to dry."

"Sorry," I mumbled under my breath as I handed her a clean dish.

She sighed dreamily. "What a beautiful plate," she said, admiring the glistening china. "It reminds me of my wedding."

My ears perked up. "You're married?" I asked, startled. She's never mentioned it before.

"Well, no," she replied with a giggle, tucking a strand of her long blonde hair behind her ear. "But I have it all planned out and everything."

I couldn't help but chuckle. I, like every other girl, had my dream wedding figured out in my head for as long as I could remember. It would be at the palace and the whole kingdom was to attend, and every fairy in the world would be there and I have pearls woven in my hair and would be wearing the most beautiful gown in the world with flowing sleeves, and I'd stand at the top of the grand staircase and slide down the banister-

"How lovely it would be to marry a prince," Anne said hopefully, breaking me out of my little daydream fantasy.

I rolled my eyes, though she didn't notice. "Well, if you ask me," I started, handing her another dish. "I doubt any of them would ever give us a second glance. They're just a bunch of spoiled children who don't even know the meaning of kind."

Anne gasped. "Hope, how could you say such a vile thing!" She gave me a playful scowl. "Anyway, how would you know? It's not like you've met any of them."

Oh, how little she knew.

"Don't you know that Queen Ella was a kitchen maid before the King married her?"

I remember Jack had mentioned that to me once or twice, but he was probably just made it up to make me feel better. He was good at faking things. "That's just a rumor," I replied. "Just an old story some hopeful kitchen maid like us made up to entertain herself."

Anne sighed heavily, then glanced at me. "You're hopeless."

After finishing with the washing and eating a bit of the leftover stew for supper, I decided to go outside for a bit of fresh air. By now the sun had gone down and the chill of autumn filled the air. I headed towards an oak tree and took a seat on the soft bed of leaves on the ground, with my back leaning against the tree's large trunk. I examined my hands for a few moments, wrinkled from the hours spend washing dishes, when I heard voices, which wasn't too unusual.

There were the voices of two men. I recognized one of them, though I couldn't pinpoint who it was.

"I applaud your work, your highness," said the deeper of the two voices. Your highness! I came out here often, through the backdoor of the kitchen, and I've never spotted any member of the royal family out here at this hour.

"I can't take all the credit, Sir Nicks," said the other voice, the one I recognized. I peered around to see the owner of the voices, but it was too dark to see anyone clearly. They didn't sound too close, but I knew they weren't especially far away either.

Your highness, I thought to myself. That definitely wasn't Jack's voice. . . so that could only mean that one of the men speaking was Evan.

Not wanting to eavesdrop, I slowly rose to my feet, which still ached even after the wounds started to heal. I was careful not to make any noise as I tiptoed towards the kitchen door, but the next thing I heard made me freeze.

"The ogre did most of the work."


End file.
